


Distraction

by malu (orphan_account)



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-10 20:29:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3302462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/malu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>It’s very Fernando, Sergio thinks, to react like that, to have so little faith in his own luck.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I still feel a bit bad about that sad ending last time, so here is a quick, fluffy one-shot. I'm not that good at fluff, but I tried ♥
> 
> And, because I can't really do it to the kids, I am taking this back to around 2006/2007, with both of them still in Madrid and no kids yet etc.
> 
> As always, I'll love you forever for any feedback and there might be more (including a change in rating) if I feel like it ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **Not real! Just playing!**

Sergio spends too much time thinking about Fernando. Decidedly too much. At first, he doesn’t notice it, but bit by bit he realizes that a growing part of his mind is dedicated to Fernando. A part of his mind, where he replays images from their hanging out last week, the way Fernando’s laughed about Iker’s jokes, spluttering a bit of his drink on the table. He thinks about Fernando’s freckles, his hair, his eyes, that were always sparkling, his slender fingers that were always fidgeting. Sometimes, he thought about his body. The way he had freckles almost everywhere, the way his muscles flex under the firm skin of his chest when he moves under the shower. Sometimes, he catches himself watching Atletico games, eyes glued to the striker. On particularly bad days, he is clumsy during practice because he is distracted by this part of his brain. And that’s how he notices that the beautiful striker has taken over a too large share of his life. Since when is ‘beautiful’ a word he uses to describe a man and teammate anyway?

It’s ridiculous, the way he is pining after the slightly older man. Who, as proven by his relationship with Olalla, is perfectly straight. At least, Sergio has never heard or witnessed any evidence of the contrary. Not even about secret handjobs, exchanged between teammates in hotel rooms or empty showers. Not Fernando, el Nino isn’t one for that kind of story. This crazy obsession, it has to stop, Sergio thinks, again and again, basically after every evening they spend hanging out with Iker somewhere in Madrid. Because it’s distracting and not getting anywhere. And yes, Sergio has been with men for the brief fling, but he’s never been actively wooing one. On the other hand, getting over your apparent crush on a supposedly good friend is made very difficult when you meet said friend anywhere and everywhere, when you keep going out together, hand out at each other’s place and you never really bring yourself to say no to them. 

Still, when Fernando breaks up with Olalla, he doesn’t hear it from the striker but reads it on the title of some cheap gossip magazine, only to later have the information confirmed by Iker who apparently had more than one long conversation about it with Fernando. It hurts, it stings, it bites, because beneath it all and crush or not crush aside, Sergio would always have sworn Fernando and him were friends. Best friends. Not having secrets. Maybe except his secret crush. Other than that, they talked about everything. Or so he thought. He is more distracted than ever during practice and ends up running extra rounds as punishment for some really stupid mistakes. Fernando is haunting them during every step of these, the name hammering in his head, unwanted images popping up relentlessly. It needs to go away. The crush needs to go away soon.

”What’s wrong with you, Sese?” Iker asks, only one of his teammates still in the locker room when Sergio comes in to take his shower.

He could of course pour his heart out and seek advice. Instead, he shrugs.

”Just a bad day.”

Iker eyes him skeptically, but the goalkeeper, after staring at him intently for a moment, seems to decide against taking action.

”Happens to all of us,” Iker says with an apologetic smile, “Take care!”

Sergio mumbles an incoherent goodbye and steps under the hot spray, inappropriate pictures of Fernando in the shower during national duty right back in his head. One of his fist slams against the tiles in frustration. _Why won’t this ever stop?_

It’s not that he doesn’t still hold a grudge because of Fernando not telling him, but he’s also worried and in the end, the angel’s voice in his head wins. So later that night, Sergio is driving to the striker’s place, sixpack on the passenger seat. Maybe it’s a brilliant idea. Talking, clearing the air, watching some movies, Playstation. Could be one of their casual hangouts, added benefit of distracting Fernando, maybe making smile. Or it’s the worst idea he’s had in a while. But all the pondering won’t help, because he’s already pulled into the driveway and leaving now would be more than a little ridiculous. Thus, Sergio finds himself on Fernando’s doorstep, clutching to a sixpcack, when the door swings open to reveal a very tired-looking striker.

”Sergio? Did we have plans? Because if then I’m sorry, but-“

”No, no Fernando,” he interrupts hastily, “I just – I heard what happened and brought this.” He holds up the beer apologetically. “Can I come in?”

Wordlessly, Fernando steps to the side, motioning him in. For a moment, they stand around in the hallway awkwardly before the striker walks in the living room, still without saying anything. Sergio is close behind and they end up on the couch together, distinct gap between them, Sergio notes. He picks up a beer, hands one to Fernando.

”Thanks,” the older opens his can.

They drink in silence, the room feeling tense. Sergio wants to look at Fernando, check whether he looks happy or angry or sad. He has to know that the striker is okay. But he cannot look, fearing he might give away just how much he cares. So he eyes his own sneakers and nervously toys with the can in his hand until her seriously things he is going to burst with pressure if he doesn’t speak up.

”Are you -,” he coughs, his voice failing him at the worst possible moment, “are you okay? I am sorry, you know, about what happened.”

With a grueling feeling in the pit of his stomach, he looks up and turns towards Fernando, who actually looks inscrutable and that is even more painful, Sergio thinks, because it means the striker is shutting him out.

”Why would you be sorry for me? I left her. And yeah, I’m okay. It’s better this way.”

Fernando sounds genuine. Not sad, not desperate. Nothing like Sergio would have expected. He had more or less assumed that for Fernando to leave Olalla, something bad must have happened. So, he has been wrong. The awkward, tense silence is back, weighing heavy on his shoulders why they keep drinking their beers, his eyes back to his sneakers.

”Why?”

Sergio finally blurts it out, because there’s no way he’s holding back any longer. And even if the smell of Fernando’s aftershave alone is enough to make him dizzy, he really wants to focus on this now, wants to make an effort to rekindle their friendship, to be there for the older man.

”You.”

The answer comes softly, almost inaudibly. But Sergio heard. It’s just that he cannot process. Eventually, he turns to look at Fernando again, the striker now determinedly looking at the floor, evading Sergio’s gaze. But the defender is sure of what he heard. And it can only mean one thing. Suddenly, he feels dizzy. And his heart is hammering. There’s the noise of blood rushing in his head. But still, it can only mean one thing. It must mean one thing. From one moment to the other, a tiny window of possibility has been pushed open and Sergio holds his breath. Very slowly, he moves closer to the striker, a hand resting on the older man’s shoulder now.

”Fernando-“ He doesn’t know what to say. Or how to say it. How do you explain that you think you have a crush on someone and have been feeling that way for some months now? How do you do that when the person in question is a good friend, recently heartbroken and sometimes your teammate?

”Don’t worry, I won’t try to make a move on you. I mean, I know you’re more into women and that you’re definitely not into me. I didn’t break up because I thought I had a chance with you. I just – it wasn’t fair towards her anymore. Because I wasn’t really thinking of her, I was thinking about- “ ,the striker hesitates for an instant, “I was thinking about you. But really, Sergio, I didn’t want things between us to be awkward, it’s just-“ 

Fernando looks at him with a shrug and Sergio is rummaging his brain for the right words so desperately. When he sees Fernando move to get up, his hand closes around the striker’s wrists firmly and their eyes meet. Fernando looks confused, a bit irritated.

”I am very much into you.”

And it’s taken him a lot to say it out loud, but the second the words have left his mouth, Sergio feels a weight lifted from his chest. In Fernando’s eyes, he sees the striker processing what he’s just heard, look changing from incredulous to hopeful and lips curling in a tentative smile.

”Are you sure?”

It’s very Fernando, Sergio thinks, to react like that, to have so little faith in his own luck. He never answers the question though, instead, Sergio nods briefly and moves to cup Fernando’s face. He half expected the striker to run, but when it doesn’t happen and their eyes stay locked in an intense gaze, Sergio leans forward to kiss Fernando, his heart still pounding, his head spinning. But the second his lips touch Fernando’s, softly and gently, without the other man jumping, Sergio relaxes into the touch, melts against the other man and when Fernando’s hands reach for his head, tangling with his hair, he smiles into their kiss. And Sergio has a feeling, that maybe he won’t be quite as off during the upcoming trainings as he was during the last.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist to take it further.  
> Thank you so much for all the sweet feedback ♥

It’s a very surreal situation, Fernando thinks. Most likely, it’s a dream. Surprisingly, it feels very real though, as if Sergio Ramos was really sitting on his couch and he had moved to straddle the defender, their lips locked in a messy kiss, tongues licking into each other’s mouth, his hands in Sergio’s long strands, Sergio’s fingers under the back of his shirt. The scent of Sergio’s perfume seems so very real, just like the heat of his touch and the shivers running down Fernando’s spine. When Fernando slowly realizes that yes, this is apparently really happening, he cannot help but chuckle softly into their kiss, prompting Sergio to pull his head away and throwing him a questioning look.

”Sorry, it’s just-,” he keeps smiling, cannot get the stupid grin of his face when he’s sitting here, everything he thought so impossible suddenly there, “I never thought this would be a possibility. I mean… you’re Sergio Ramos, you’re a playboy. A ladies’ man. You don’t do this.”

For a brief moment, Sergio looks at him with widened eyes and Fernando almost thinks he said something wrong, when the defender starts laughing, a low, rumbly chuckle that vibrates through both of their bodies. It’s the striker’s turn to raise his eyebrows.

”Aw, Fer,” the nickname alone is enough to make Fernando shiver again, “I’ve been wanting this for so long. I thought you don’t do this. You’re the one with the girlfriend after all.”

”Ex-girlfriend,” Fernando corrects with a smile and then leans forward, bringing their lips back together and resuming where they stopped moments ago.

This time, their kiss turns a little more daring, more passionate, with Sergio’s teeth grazing his bottom lips and nails scratching down his spine and when the defender’s hands slide into his jeans, Fernando fails to stifle a small moan. He pulls away, feeling his cheeks turn pink and, eyes still squeezed shut, he is desperately trying to will his cock to stop what it’s doing, praying that Sergio doesn’t notice.

”Fer,” it’s a whisper and it sounds like Sergio is smiling, but Fernando would rather not open his eyes quite yet.

In fact, he wouldn’t mind the ground to swallow him instead. And as if things weren’t bad enough, Sergio’s hand are still on his ass and now, with one sudden and surprisingly strong grip, pull him forward until their crotches are right against each other and Fernando really wants to jump and… _oh_.

His eyes fly open, meeting Sergio’s gaze, the defender looking at him with a smile that even Fernando could only describe as affectionate, nothing mocking about it at all.

”It’s okay, Fer,” Sergio says with a nod, one hand now out of the striker’s jeans and a finger tracing his jaw.

The simple touch feels like it’s setting his skin on fire and Fernando feels himself melt. 

”You really want this.”

He doesn’t ask, doesn’t have to anymore. The statement is enough and Sergio nods. Fernando’s brain is horribly slow on the intake, everything still surreal, feeling so far out of reach, but he surrenders to the touch, to the feel of Sergio’s erection against his. With a content sigh, he leans against Sergio’s chest, feeling the younger man’s heartbeat vibrate through his own body, his mouth latching on Sergio’s neck.

It’s not long before he hears the defender moan and it sends a sting of want and pride through his body, giving Fernando just enough confidence to try grinding his hips down a little. The move is met with Sergio bucking up more than willingly, the defender’s fingers digging into the skin of Fernando’s hips to keep him in place. Fernando kisses his way back up the defender’s face, hint of evening stubble scratching his lips, a brief reminder what he’s doing here or rather, with whom, but the thought no longer scaring him. With his hands now cupping Sergio’s face, he resumes their kiss and this time, it’s all but gentle. 

They’re devouring each other and he feels as if Sergio is sucking the air out of his lungs, literally taking his breath away. There’s the sound of teeth hitting against each other, a hint of the taste of blood lingering between them, mixing with the taste of beer and Fernando’s jeans are painfully tight. This is even so much better than in his dreams. Over the last year or so, he’s had countless fantasies of this happening, only not once has he actually considered that it would be on offer. At first, he’d thought it would fade, go away, be a temporary crush. After all, it’s not like he’s cared about men before. But the feeling, the attraction towards the Sevillan player never left him, on the contrary, it kept growing, reaching dimensions where he could be out with Sergio and Iker for an entire evening without remembering a single words of their conversations later because his eyes, his entire brain had been focused entirely on Sergio. When he wouldn’t stop dreaming about the younger man, he had finally decided to let Olalla go, realizing that she’d deserve better. And now this. His thoughts rush back to the present, to jeans that are about to burst, to a complete lack of oxygen and to Sergio’s body heat driving him further and further into a tunnel of desire.

Only when he feels that he is truly about to suffocate, does he reluctantly take his head back, his eyes meeting Sergio’s. If he wasn’t out of breath already, the sight would do the job, Sergio’s eyes black with lust, lips swollen and glistening with their saliva. For an instant, their panting is the only sound in the room and the intensity of their look makes Fernando shudder.

”I, I don’t know if this is appropriate,” Fernando presses out, his voice breathless and his cheeks most certainly turning crimson, “but… take this to the bedroom?”

He sees Sergio’s eyes widen, pupils dilating even more and Fernando feels his heart hammering in his chest, his blood freezing while he waits for a reaction to a proposal that he cannot believe he made. That he never thought he’d ever make to another man. And it occurs to him that he has no idea if this is as new for Sergio as it is for him. Sure, the Sevillan has been a true playboy lately, but that wouldn’t have to mean that he’s not engaged in the secret exchange of rough handjobs or the occasional blowjob among teammates like so many of them have. Fernando doesn’t know and maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to know.

”Yes, bedroom sounds good.”

Sergio’s voice sounds like a growl and the relief washing over Fernando mixes with a wave of lust that makes him jump from Sergio’s lap eagerly, hand reaching out to pull the defender up and along with him.

”You’re eager, I like it,” Sergio growls again, right into Fernando’s ear and if it wasn’t for Sergio’s arm that’s slung around his waist now, Fernando’s knees would give in.

_I can’t believe I’m not dreaming._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all so, so much ♥   
> I am so glad you're enjoying this!

They leave a scattered trail of clothes from the living room to Fernando’s bedroom and by the time Sergio is facing the striker’s bed, immaculately made with some expensive-looking light grey linens and pillows, they’re both only clad in boxer briefs. Naked chests against each other, Fernando’s skin silky smooth against his, Fernando’s smell enveloping him; Sergio feels like he’s drunk from the older man’s presence alone. The sight of the bed out of the corner of his eye makes him hesitate though, briefly freezing in his moves. Fernando seems to follow his eyes, deciphering what caught his attention and the flushed face turns even a bit pinker.

”Have you-“ Sergio swallows, gathering his thoughts, “have you done this before?”

”Kind of.” Fernando evades his eyes, staring at the ground instead.

_Oh my God. If you turn any pinker I’ll have to squeal. Too cute._ Sergio chuckles softly and presses a kiss to Fernando’s ear.

”Have you?” The older man’s voice sounds insecure and a bit distant.

Reassuringly, Sergio wraps his hands tighter around Fernando’s waist, their crotches rubbing against each other and he smiles over the tiny moan that escapes from Fernando’s mouth.

”Kind of,” he whispers into Fernando’s ear, grinning evilly.

Littering Fernando’s neck and collarbones with kisses, he shoves their underwear out of the way, feeling the striker shudder against him and reveling in the salty taste of Fernando’s skin. With one hand running through the blondes hair, the fingers of his other and close around both of their cocks. He bites his own lip to hold back a very needy wail in his throat, feeling simply overwhelming and Fernando whimpers into his hair, the striker’s nails firmly digging into the flesh of Sergio’s shoulders. He strokes them both lazily for a moment, reveling in the beautiful, wanton noises falling from Fernando’s mouth, before he cups Fernando’s face and locks eyes with the older man. It’s sheer perfection, he thinks, the dark pools of brown looking at him, pupils blown wide, slight expression of surprise.

”Trust me?” Sergio asks, hands hovering over the other’s sides, feeling the gooseflesh they cause.

”Yes,” comes the breathless answer, the striker nodding, “Yes, I trust you.”

And Sergio thinks that Fernando might well be the first person he’s ever slept with who not only says but as far as he can tell from his eyes even believes that. He nods to himself, needing a moment to collect himself, the realization of Fernando’s admissions, Fernando’s trust, Fernando’s honest feelings for him only sinking in slowly. Then he presses Fernando down on the mattress, gently but with determination, his eyes never leaving the striker’s. When he has him where he wants him, he sits back, straddling him by the waist and marvels his work, the body of a Greek god splayed out in front of him, dark eyes watching him intently and full of affection. _You’re mine. Now that I’ve seen this, no-one else can have you ever again._

Sergio leans down slowly, kissing Fernando messily while his hands map the striker’s torso, taking in the softness of his skin, the firm muscles twitching underneath. Fernando’s hands tentatively explore his back, their tough soft, teasing, causing Sergio to shiver from head to toe. It’s perfect, he thinks, absolutely amazing. It’s never been like this with another man. Maybe it’s never been like this ever.

Eventually, Sergio’s mouth travels down, kissing and licking Fernando’s jaw and neck, sucking marks on his collarbones and circling his nipples with his tongue until they harden and the tight grip in his hair tells him how sensitive Fernando is there. He takes mental notes of all the small reactions, every yanking in his hair, each little moan that falls from the striker’s mouth, while he keeps going further and further, tongue in Fernando’s navel and finally, lapping on his tip. There’s a surprisingly strong expletive coming from above and Sergio almost chuckles. He’s given head before and he thinks nobody has complained. Still, this is different, this is Fernando, the stakes are much higher here tonight.

When he swallows him down, Fernando wails and Sergio feels tears prickle in his eyes because Fernando most certainly pulled a handful of his hair out. He uses his hands to keep the older man’s hips down, afraid he’d thrust up and choke him otherwise and then he keeps going. For a moment, his world stops turning and he feels like he’s watching the two of them on that bed, indulged in fantasies that suddenly are reality. The noises spilling from Fernando are increasingly loud, desperate, and wow, Sergio had no idea _those_ words even were in the striker’s vocabulary. His own cock is painfully hard, throbbing impatiently, each sound going straight through him and making him twitch a little more and he’s covered in sweat when Fernando’s hands yank on his hair again.

”Shit, Sergio, I’m-“

The sentence is never finished, because Sergio doesn’t pull away, which is probably what Fernando expected him to do, instead, he takes him in the final inch deeper and with tears springing from his eyes, he feels Fernando come down his throat in hot spurts. It’s an indescribable sensation, adrenaline rushing through his veins and he cannot wait any longer, not with the beautiful body squirming in his hold, swearing and panting. So Sergio reaches down, finishes himself off rough and urgently, finding release embarrassingly quickly. He comes over his hand and Fernando’s thigh and then collapses next to the striker, feeling leaden and feathery at the same time.

With the afterglow wearing off, worries return with full force and he peels himself from the bed without looking at Fernando, afraid of what he might see, fearing that the older will regret what happened. Will blame Sergio for everything. Detest him for allowing it to happen. Wordlessly, he walks to the bathroom, cleaning himself up as good as he can and splashing some cold water on his face. He returns with a wet towel and finds Fernando sitting with his back against the headboard, arms behind his head, looking even more gorgeous than ever. 

Fernando takes the towel from him with an insecure smile and when the striker quietly starts wiping Sergio’s cum of himself, Sergio turns around, looking for his clothes. Suddenly, the urge to run away is overwhelmingly strong, the fear of Fernando’s reaction towards everything overpowering him.

”You’re not walking out on me, right?”

Fernando’s voice behind him, soft, slightly incredulous and Sergio turns around, holding his boxers and feeling guilty.

”I-“ He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what to ask. Only knows that he doesn’t want to leave, he wishes nothing more than for Fernando to call him back into the bed.

”Stay?”

It’s enough to convince Sergio and he climbs back, arm around Fernando’s shoulders and the strikers head resting against his shoulder.

”So you’ve done this before?” Fernando’s voice comes out muffled, as he’s speaking into the crook of Sergio’s neck.

”Told you, kind of.” Sergio says absentmindedly, not willing to talk about this right now. Not yet. Not in a moment where everything feels so perfect but also so very fragile.

”Why kind of?” Fernando asks a while later, his finger tracing delicate patterns on Sergio’s forearm that make the defender shudder.

”I think I’ve never done it with someone I care so much about before.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♥ ♥ ♥  
> Thank you so much for the sweet feedback! It makes all the difference and it makes me want to write so much more and wish that it would never end!  
> So there will probably be another one ;)  
> And well, as I said, fluff isn't really my strong point, hence this is a short one, but I tried and I'm glad so many people liked and enjoyed it!

Fernando wakes up on his side, facing Sergio, one of the defender’s arms around his waist and their foreheads almost touching. _It wasn’t a dream._ The realization comes slowly, making a broad smile spread over his face and a deep, calm joy spreads through his body. It sends a shiver down his spine and makes his skin tingle. _It really happened. And now you’re here, in my bed. Wow._ Sergio is still asleep and Fernando can’t help but run a finger through his hair, tugging a streak behind his ear and reveling in the peaceful expression, the hint of a smile on the defender’s face.

After a while, Fernando having traced countless little patterns on Sergio’s face and neck, the defender begins to stir, blinking his eyes open. There’s an instant, where Fernando feels nothing but panic, afraid that Sergio will regret what they’ve done, hate him for it and run out on him. But then the younger man’s are open, blink in confusion for a split-second and finally, the most beautiful smile Fernando has ever seen spreads over Sergio’s face.

”You’re really here,” Fernando whispers, while Sergio’s hand finds its way into his hair.

Sergio nods and the whole world suddenly feels incredibly solemn.

”I am. I can’t believe it, but I am.”

It seems only natural that they both lean forward, slowly, their eyes still locked, until their mouths touch. And although 24 hours ago, Fernando would have believed this to be totally impossible, their lips part, tongues licking and exploring, everything gentle, slow. Fernando is savoring every moment, tries to memorize each emotion and each feathery touch, the way Sergio’s breath hitches, the way his fingers tangle in Fernando’s hair, the way his flat chest presses against Fernando, all smooth, firm skin and scorching hot.

It’s not long before he’s completely immersed in the defender, his hands roaming freely over Sergio’s torso, tracing scars and bones and feeling silky skin. It’s quite likely the most sensual thing he’s ever experienced and when they both shift a little, bodies even closer, his own erections rubs against Sergio’s and they simultaneously moan into the kiss. On his back, Sergio’s fingers are tracing the bumps of his vertebrae, one by one, wandering lower and lower, until his hand comes to stop on the small of Fernando’s back for a moment. Then, the striker’s world stands still, while he feels a single finger move further, between his cheeks, lingering there questioningly.

It makes him feel a million things at one, arousal at the touch, fear of what Sergio is asking for, growing desire and need for just that and pride and happiness for being wanted like this, by a man like Sergio. The defender seems to sense his struggle, pulling away and locking their gazes.

”You’re okay?”

Fernando isn’t sure he can reply, because he might have forgotten how to speak, look of Sergio’s face, flushed and with morning stubble and messy hair everywhere too gorgeous to take his eyes away leave alone focus on anything else. So he gulps and moves his hands to cup the defenders face and just nods, amazed by the way Sergio’s pupils blow wide when the unspoken agreement is made.

Fernando feels himself melt into Sergio’s touch that’s more demanding now and he feels like he’s floating when the defender presses him down into the mattress, again littering his body with kisses and licks and the occasional sucked bruise. After a while, Sergio just driving him insane by licking along the inside of his thighs, stubble tingling and scratching, Fernando takes a deep breath and reaches over to the nightstand. His movement makes Sergio stop, dark eyes looking up at him with a pure desire that he’s never seen on any of his partners before and it makes Fernando’s own cock twitch, because it’s hot, damned hot, that _he_ is the one who can make Sergio look like that.

He ponders whether he needs to state the obvious, that this is new for him, but then, he is very sure Sergio knows. The way the defender is kneeling between his spread legs, eyeing him affectionately, hands drawing gentle lines on his chest, just tells him that Sergio is well aware of the significance of this moment. And Fernando is surprised how easy and comfortable this feels with Sergio, even if his position is exposing him, making him vulnerable. Even so he knows that it will hurt.

”Ready?”

Sergio’s voice is soft, hesitant and Fernando hurries to nod.

”More than.”

And he lets his head fall back into the pillow, eyes shut, hands in Sergio’s hair and focuses on the feeling. He releases a surprised moan when the defender swallows him down first and it’s difficult to stop himself from jerking up and choking the younger man. But the technique is working, because he’s all pliant and relaxed, moaning softly from the hot wetness and Sergio’s tongue playing with him, so that the first, lubed finger breaches him with more ease than he expected. There’s a hint of a burn, but it’s not as bad as he thought and with Sergio’s mouth still moving on his cock, he’s more than pleasantly distracted.

The second finger makes his muscles clench and causes him pain, more like what he expected, but Sergio gives him enough time to accommodate and eventually, there’s three fingers buried inside of him and he’s still in one piece, so he is positive that it will be good. Great, if his rock hard cock is anything to go by. Sergio is moving inside of him, carefully, spreading him slightly and then he somehow bends his fingers and Fernando’s cry echoes through the room. He only sees stars and pants heavily.

”Good?”

Sergio lifts his head, smiling at him and Fernando nods frantically. _Good? Mind-blowing!_ The striker winces disappointedly when Sergio pulls his fingers out now, but then the defender crawls up, catching his lips for a kiss and this is the moment, Fernando thinks, feeling Sergio’s tip against his hole.

It hurts, this time it does. Without the distraction of Sergio sucking on him and with a cock still being a whole lot more than three fingers, Fernando now feels real pain and he’s trying hard to relax around Sergio who is obviously the gentlest lover he could wish for, giving him all the time he needs and not moving an inch right now. It takes a while for the initial hurt to fade to a bearable burn and Sergio just waits, kissing him carefully, hand running through his hair in the most comforting way.

When Fernando feels okay and nods, Sergio takes the wordless hint and starts moving and in the beginning, it feels only strange and full and stretched and Fernando really doesn’t think he will get any pleasure out of it, but then he hears the way Sergio moans into his mouth and he feels the way the defender’s arms tremble next to him, making him realize just how much the other craves this and that alone is enough to make Fernando feel a jolt of arousal. And it gets even better when Sergio, fidgeting with his position, hits that one spot inside Fernando, making him cry into their kiss and making his fingers clench in Sergio’s hair. The stars are back and more intense than ever.

Sergio picks up pace now, thrusting faster and deeper and Fernando turns into a needy mess, has to break their kiss because he needs to let out these moans and groans and obscenities, feeling desperate for more, harder and faster, not the slightest bit ashamed of his own neediness, the way his legs pull Sergio closer, further inside of him. Just when he thinks it cannot get more intense than that, Sergio’s fingers close around his cock and stroke him, rhythm matching that of his thrusts and Fernando bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood to last longer, but he fails, hot liquid splattering over Sergio’s hand and his wail echoing through the room.

He’s caught up on the waves of his climax washing over him, so he only distantly hears Sergio cry out and through a haze, he feels the other collapse on top of him, but for a long moment, he’s lost in a world of stars and colors, everything else clouded. He vaguely recalls himself wincing when Sergio pulls out eventually, curling up against him, pressing a kiss to his temple. Then he drifts away into a dreamless and very content sleep.

***

When Fernando wakes up for the second time this morning, he restrains himself from marveling Sergio too long and disentangles from the mess that is their limbs and the sheets, tip-toeing into the bathroom. He feels a little sore, but in the best possible way and when he sees his face in the bathroom mirror, he thinks he’s glowing somehow. Looking different than yesterday. And well, the world has changed overnight, that much is for sure. After a quick clean up at the sink, he heads for the kitchen, grinning like an idiot. _And it wasn’t a dream._ He whistles, some old and cheesy love song, while he starts making coffee, his thoughts floating on a happy cloud of memories from the night and this morning. He doesn’t hear the steps behind him and jumps when two strong arms reach around his waist from behind.

”You’re still here,” he turns in Sergio’s hold, smiling broadly at the defender who nods, smiling back just as widely.

”I don’t think I’ll ever leave again.”

And Fernando won’t mind that at all, he thinks to himself, because he can sure get used to waking up like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and they lived happily ever after! I promise ♥


End file.
